Page 112 of Alpha Ruined
“How could I leave my mate?” he continues, flicking out his tongue. It pushes against the sensitive skin of the bite mark, and she holds back a groan. The hand at her waist moves down to her hip, and he tilts his face up to kiss her.
Her body ignites.
She thought she remembered how Cole kissed—but the memory is nothing compared to the reality of it. His tongue enters her mouth gently, tasting her and tracing the seam of her lips. Mint and citrus swirl around her, making her head dizzy and her cunt throb with need. She wraps her arms around his neck and deepens the kiss until he pushes her back against the wall.
She moans into his mouth, deep and unrestrained, when he suddenly pulls back, smirking. He steps away from her, lips wet and swollen from kissing.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” he tells her. “We wouldn’t want to keep Carol waiting; it would be rude.”
She stares at him in disbelief, her body overheated and flustered.
As if on cue, her mother calls from downstairs that the food is ready, and Cole takes her hand and leads her out of the bedroom.
CHAPTER 38
COLE
Maybe it wasa mistake only giving her two weeks of space.
But the agony of being apart from her was killing him, in more ways than one.
Food didn’t taste like anything.
Sleep was pointless.
He couldfeelher, less than five miles away, her own loneliness making his heart ache.
It’s a miracle he was able to wait this long to see her.
During dinner, he notices certain things about his mate. Her scent is significantly sweeter, no longer laced with the sour notes she had the last time they saw each other.
She doesn’t fear him anymore. He’d prefer the spicy scent of her frustration over her terror any day.
He catches her watching him when he talks to Carol, eyeing him curiously. A pleasant warmth flows through his chest, and he realizes it’s her joy.
His mate ishappy.
He takes her hand under the table, and she doesn’t resist.
He helps Carol clear the dinner plates, but not before noticing Bree’s eye roll.
“Show off,” she mutters, as Carol heads into the kitchen. “You know she already likes you, right? You don’t have to suck up to my mother.”
He shrugs. “I’m just being polite, sweetheart,” he says, giving her a grin. “I don’t want her to think I’m anything but a perfect gentleman.”
She scowls, and he laughs.
He finds his Omega a few minutes later in the front hallway, staring at a family portrait. He recognizes a younger Carol, a tiny grinning Bree, and a man with a kind face.
Bree’s father, Thomas Hanson.
His mate’s face is wistful as she stares at the picture, and he stands with her in silence.
“I hate this picture,” she says finally. “I never look at it.”
“But you’re staring at it now.”
She sighs. “It’s just…the last few times I’ve come here, it’s always ended badly. My mother and I end up fighting, and when I leave, I don’t want to have to see my dad’s face.”